


Summer Break

by Zari_loves_Isaac



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Child Abuse, F/M, Human Isaac, Isaac Feels, Isaac-centric, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-15
Updated: 2015-11-19
Packaged: 2018-04-26 12:57:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5005681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zari_loves_Isaac/pseuds/Zari_loves_Isaac
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Isaac is still living with his father and suffers his cruel abuse but maybe new friendships can brighten up his days.</p><p>Stiles has had a crush on Isaac since what seems like an eternity. Can he finally get closer to the boy with the sad blue eyes?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Nice last day of School

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic and English isn't my first language, so please be gentle. Also, I've written just the one chapter so far, so I might add some tags and a longer summary later. I hope you'll enjoy reading this story ;)

The last day of school before summer break would be one of celebration for any student in High School. The building would be bustling with activity, full of the laughter of it's prisoners, anticipating the moment they would be released out of the stuffy rooms and into the world, free to do whatever they pleased for the next two months. Even most of the teachers were too lazy to do much in the last few hours before they would be free from this stress and didn't even bother to try and tame the wild animals called teenagers.

Only Isaac couldn't join into the euphoria of his fellow students. He held on tight to the straps of his backpack, his back hunched and his eyes lowered to the ground as he walked the halls, trying not to attract any attention as he was heading for his locker. School holidays meant to him that he wasn't able to escape his father for a few hours when he had classes every day. Sure, he didn't have to worry about his dad getting angry for bad grades or when he didn't do his homework right, since he always checked on his work, but it wasn't like Mr.Lahey didn't find other reasons to get mad. Considering that the man had even hit his son once for walking the wrong way, Isaac was positive that spending the whole day around him, he was sure to get his fair share of beatings. He'd contemplated taking summer classes or going to camp, anything to get out of the house but his father said he needed him for the work at the graveyard. Isaac didn't mind the physical work digging graves and such in itself so much, even though it often left his bones aching. The problem was at work, his dad wasn't only his dad, but also his boss. By now he'd mostly just leave him to do the tasks he'd assigned to him but if it came to chores he hadn't done before or just a few times, he'd stand beside him observing, making him feel nervous and slapping the back of his head whenever he did something wrong. 

The teen's shoulder ached when he took his bag off after he'd opened his locker. He'd brought home his report card the night before, explanation enough for the large, deep purple bruises now decorating his shoulders and a few other parts of his body. At least his dad hadn't left any visible marks on him so he didn't have to deal with finding excuses on his last day at school.  
Isaac felt a hard blow against his arm as he was putting the books he needed for his next class into his bag, causing him to wince as a fresh wave of pain was sent up into his shoulder. He heard someone snicker and turned his head to see Jackson Whittemore, or more like Twitmore as he secretly referred to him in his head, a wicked grin distorting his face. He threw a 'Freak!' at him, one of the boy's favorite insults he used to belittle his neighbor, and put his arm around his girlfriend Lydia as he walked away. The girl didn't even bother to look at someone like him, who was below her and her queen bee status. Just like she hadn't payed much attention to him when he'd finally mustered up his courage and asked her out, only taking enough time to tell him to get back to her when the bike he was driving to school had an engine.

He still used that same old bike to get to wherever he needed to go. It felt like a little piece of freedom to him, even though he couldn't really decide for himself where he took it most of the time. His dad wouldn't allow him to go many places, only permitting him to ride his bike to and from school or the graveyard. On the rare occasions that he got the chance to take his bicycle out just to take a spin, just to go anywhere and nowhere, he'd feel a small sense of liberation. And just like now, as he was riding his faithful wheels home, having avoided the cheering students as best he could, he'd try to pretend he wasn't going back to that place. He felt like he couldn't stand the beatings for much longer even though he knew that it was his own fault for getting his dad angry. If he could just do a better job at school, at his chores and the work at the graveyard, his father wouldn't have to punish him. It was his own stupidity and uselessness that got him into that freezer he feared so much. Every night he'd tell himself that if he could just clean the kitchen a little more thoroughly, cook his dad's dinner just the way he liked it, not talk too much but not too little, maybe he could avoid setting him off.  
He hit the brakes when he arrived in front of the house, never driving too fast so he could drag the ride out a little longer. He only had to be careful not to take too long, otherwise his dad would start asking questions about where he'd gone after class and that wouldn't be a good start for the rest of the night. The first step was putting the bike away exactly how his dad had told him to, inside the garage but without blocking the way they took to get to the freezer or he'd be very sorry. Then, it was important not to make too much noise when he closed the front door and he had to put his keys in the bowl standing on the sideboard next to it. He'd lost his keys once and his father had to pay for a new set and Isaac had to repay him with a broken rib. Step four, Isaac always listed them in his mind so he wouldn't get anything wrong, was putting his jacket on the rack and taking off his shoes so he wouldn't mess up the floor.  
The teenager looked cautiously through the doorway arch leading to the living room and saw the back of his father's head as he was sitting on the couch watching a game of football, as he was taking off his sneakers. A can of beer was set on the small stand next to the sofa, which wasn't a good sign. Mr.Lahey didn't drink every night, but when he did it meant that he was in a bad mood and it always turned into more than one or two beers. “I'm...I'm gonna go do my homework dad.”, he called over and turned around in a hurry to get up to his room. He closed his eyes and his heart sank when he noticed the volume of the tv going down and then the dreaded words, “Get in here son.”  
The boy took a deep breath and then slowly walked into the living room, standing next to the television facing his father. “Yes dad?”, he said tentatively. Mr.Lahey took another sip from his beer, taking his time to slowly set the can back next to him. “I got an interesting call from the school today. Any idea what it was about?”, he started with that sneer Isaac had learned to fear. This set his mind racing, he was wrecking his brain what he could have done wrong now. Had he talked back to a teacher, forgotten to hand in a last minute essay? He couldn't think of anything, so he slowly shook his head no.  
“No? Well, I'll tell you then. The very nice secretary...what was her name again? Rebecca, that's it! Well, Rebecca told me that my son forgot to pay the fee he owed for losing the Calculus book and can you imagine how surprised I was when she told me there were only two days left before the school closes for the summer and I should ask you to bring the money in by then?”, his father explained and Isaac's heart started to beat faster and faster. “Well?”, his dad added as he didn't answer quickly enough. “Dad, I...”, the teenager started but closed up when his dad got off the couch in one quick move, standing close to him. He came even closer when he reached behind his son to take a heavy book out of the shelf right behind his back, the smell of alcohol on his breath reaching Isaac's nose.  
“So you like books so much, you don't bother to bring them back, huh?”, his father asked but Isaac didn't even have enough time to try and answer before he felt a heavy blow to his head when his dad struck him with the book, which left him struggling to keep his balance. Before the blur vanished from his vision and he could realize that there was blood coming from a cut on his forehead, he felt another blow, this time to his stomach which made him double over.  
“I clothe you, I fed you and I give you a roof over your head and this is how you repay me? By costing me more money?”, Mr.Lahey started ranting and threw his son to the floor, giving him a kick to the stomach for good measure. “Get up!”, he snarled and lifted Isaac to his feet by grabbing his hair and pulling him up. “Lets take this discussion downstairs, shall we?”, he whispered right into his ear and panic started to rise inside Isaac's chest as he thought ahead to the hours of darkness in this tight space where he could barely breath. He knew if he struggled it would only make things worse, but he also knew now that he didn't have to go to school the next day, his dad could keep him inside the freezer for as long as he wanted to. The teenager, which he knew he was although he felt more like a scared little boy right now, stumbled and fell as his dad was dragging him by the arm at a quick pace, but that didn't make him slow down. He was disorientated as the blow to his head still affected him, but he knew this path by heart and already anticipated the rough edges of the wooden stairs as they hit his back with each step his dad took further down towards the freezer. Mr.Lahey was practiced at the moves of bringing him down here, so it wasn't as much effort for him as you might have thought.  
“Now you can think about the time and money I put into giving you this life.”, he growled at the boy, spit flying into his face before everything went dark. Isaac tried to stay calm and clenched his shaking hands to fists as he thought 'So, this is the start of my holidays'.


	2. Awkward Invitation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A very awkward but funny conversation between Stiles and Isaac :)

It was probably Isaac's luck that his dad needed him at the graveyard the next day, otherwise he might have stayed in that awful freezer for much longer. Not that digging graves under the blazing Californian sun in July was something he enjoyed doing. Since his torso was covered in bruises, he couldn't even take his shirt off, which could have relieved him a little from the heat. Isaac wiped his forehead with the back of his hand and let out a breath of air before taking a sip from his water bottle. Because of water restrictions that were being enforced, Mr. Lahey only allowed him to have one bottle of water per day, maybe half a gallon worth. If the teen was feeling very bold and he knew his dad was away from the cemetery, running errands and such, he'd refill his bottle at the water hose, taking just a little bit so his father wouldn't notice anything.

Just as he was about to grab the shovel again, he heard the gravel crunch underneath someone's feet and looked up to see his dad walk towards him with an expression on his face, that made him take an involuntary step back.  
“What the hell do you think you're doing?”, Mr. Lahey spat at Isaac, who stepped back further. The only thing stopping him from falling into the freshly dug grave was the sound of the earth trickling into the gaping hole.  
“I'm...I'm digging the grave for Mrs. Beaver, next to her husband's. Just like you asked me to”, Isaac explained and let out a gasp when his father came forward and grabbed the front of his shirt.  
“Mrs. Cleaver, you moron! I told you to dig a grave for Mrs. Cleaver!”, the man yelled at him and started to raise his hand, which made Isaac close his eyes in anticipation for the strike to his face. A confused frown crept onto Isaac's face as the blow never came and his father released the grip from his shirt, looking at something over the teen's shoulder before focusing back on him. He leaned over to his son and whispered in his ear, his foul breath hot on the boy's skin.  
“We're gonna work out your punishment tonight, now get the job done and fill up this hole!”, he practically growled, which was almost scarier than when he screamed at Isaac. He watched his dad spin on his heels and walk back up the path. He was still baffled that his dad hadn't hit him and when he turned around to see what had made his father let him go, he jumped back with a startled yelp as someone was standing right behind him.

“Wow, you're boss is a right asshole, isn't he?”, the teenage boy in front of him commented and Isaac realized that he actually knew him. He was that weird Stilinski kid from school, who was always goofing around and didn't seem to be embarrassed by anything. Isaac kind of admired him for that, being able to say and do whatever he wanted without caring what other people thought of him.  
“That's actually my dad.”, Isaac replied, raising his eyebrows, but he couldn't keep a smirk off his face as Stiles had used one of the words to describe his father, that he'd wanted to hurl at him for quite some time.  
“Well, this is awkward. ”, Stiles said and let out a chuckle, which sounded almost hysterical to be honest. “He seems like a charming man.”, the boy added and scratched the back of his head. What followed was a long awkward silence which was filled with exchanged looks between the teens and both of them glancing around at the surrounding tombstones and sunny grass.  
Isaac tried to suppress a cough so he wouldn't be the one to break the silence, but it burst out of his mouth nonetheless which earned him an expectant stare from Stiles. The boy's face crumbled in disappointment when Isaac stayed silent after his coughing fit.  
“Sooo...”, Stiles finally said, but then stopped talking again for another five minutes. Why didn't he just leave and save them this awkwardness for god's sake, Isaac asked himself.  
“Um...so I noticed that you never go out with the rest of us guys from the Lacrosse team.”, Stiles pointed out and folded his arms over his chest as if he was accusing his classmate.  
“Yeah, my dad is equally charming when it comes to me going out as he is about my work here at the graveyard.”, Isaac answered a bit hesitantly, a frown on his forehead, because he wasn't sure what Stiles was trying to get at. He'd always been under the impression that his teammates were more than happy to go out without him, especially Twitmore.

“Uh..well, Scott and I are watching a few movies together at my place today. I'm still working on getting him to agree on having a Star Wars marathon.”, Stiles explained and Isaac wasn't quite sure why he was telling him about his plans with his best friend.  
“Good for you, I guess?”, he said, dragging out his words with that irritated frown still on his face.  
Stilinski scratched his head again and then shook it, letting out a chuckle.  
“You're really hard to invite, aren't you? I was telling you about tonight because I was wondering if you want to come over too, you idiot.”, Stiles said and rolled his eyes with a laugh, which apparently meant that he didn't really want to insult Isaac, who started to laugh along nervously.  
“Well, if you're sure Scott won't mind me crashing your date, I guess I could ask my dad.”, he answered and shrugged his shoulders. A wide grin spread over his classmate's face and he nodded approvingly.

“Great, just let me know as soon as you can. Scott'll come over around sevenish and we'll order pizza before starting the movie. Here's my number, so just send me a text or whatever.”, Stiles said and Isaac almost backed away when the teen stepped closer to him, took a black pen from the back pocket of his jeans and scribbled a combination of numbers onto Isaac's hand. The boy stared at the black digits on his skin and looked up to see Stiles already walking back towards the graveyard's exit.  
“Don't forget to text me Lahey”, he called over before turning his back on the other boy.  
Isaac stared at the spot where his classmates had disappeared for a few minutes after he'd gone and then looked back at the numbers written on his hand with confusion, not sure if he'd hallucinated the whole thing, until a smile slowly crept onto his face.  
“I've actually been invited somewhere”, he whispered to himself and started closing up the wrongly dug grave with more energy than before, his joy about being invited by another teenager overshadowing the worry about asking his father if he could go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I'm gonna write the next chapter from Stiles's perspective. I already have a few ideas for it ^^


	3. Bestest Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that it's taken me so long to update and that it's so short. I had writer's block -_-  
> I hope you guys still like this and that I'll be able to update sooner the next time. Don't hesitate to comment and give me feedback please :) Also, sorry for any mistakes

Stiles had to remind himself not to skip down the path of the cemetery after turning his back on Isaac, like the little schoolgirl he felt like. He climbed into his jeep, gripped the steering wheel and let out an excited squeal, earning him an irritated stare from an elderly lady riding by on her bike. He clasped his hands on top of his mouth and giggled when the woman was gone. He couldn't even remember exactly when he'd developed this weird crush on Isaac. It wasn't like the boy was one of the super popular jocks or a funny class clown, like he considered himself to be. He was mostly shy and hardly ever talked, but those sad blue eyes made Stiles just want to hug him and wrap him up in a soft blanket.

Scott was already starting to get fed up with his best friend always raving about their teammate and not paying attention to anything he was telling him whenever the tall, blond guy was close-by. Although he knew that Scott would probably just roll his eyes, Stiles dialed his friend's number, his heart still skipping and his breathing unsteady because of the excitement swelling his chest.

“Hey bro, it's like 10am on the first day of summer. What's up?”, he heard Scott greet him through the phone in a sleepy voice and rolled his eyes, although he still had a grin on his face. He knew that his best friend liked to sleep in like many of their peers. He himself could never stay in bed for too long, he was way too hyperactive to stay still. This had caused for a lot of pranks being played on Scott whenever he and Stiles would have a sleepover. Stiles would wake up in the early hours and a mischievous smirk would spread over his face when he'd catch sight of his friend sprawled out over his bed, drooling onto his pillow. Stiles had gone a little far that one time when he'd shaved one of Scott's eyebrows off – Mrs. McCall had banned him from the house for two weeks, which didn't matter much because Scott wouldn't talk to him for almost a month.

“Dude, you'll never guess who I invited to our movie night”, Stiles said, practically bouncing in his car seat and a bright grin all over his face. He ignored the groan he heard coming through the phone, a sign of Scott being annoyed that his friend called him just to tell him about some new guest for the movie night they'd planned. Right now, the teen was selfish enough to care more about telling someone he'd given Isaac his number than about letting Scott have his long awaited sleep after months of school.“You're calling me just so you can tell me you invited someone? Come on man!”, Scott groaned and Stiles could hear him flop back onto his pillow. “Why did you invite someone else to our movie night, anyway?”, he then added and Stiles could hear a hint of jealousy in his friend's voice which caused him to grin even more.“Relax, it's not like you're not still my bestest little friend in the world”, Stiles said in a tone that most adults used to talk to small children and chuckled as he heard the frustrated whine coming from his friend. “Stiles, just tell me who you invited”, Scott said in a monotonous voice that clearly stated that he wasn't exactly dying to know who the mysterious guest was.

“Just let me build up some drama, would you?”, the teen reproached his friend but decided to hurry up when he heard something coming from Scott, that almost sounded like a growl. “Fine, ruin my fun! I met Isaac Lahey and I invited him and gave him my number. Can you believe it? Isaac-angel-blue-eyes Lahey has my number and might actually come to my house tonight!”, Stiles said and almost couldn't keep his voice steady with a new wave of excitement washing over him.

“Stiles, that's...”, Scott began but was interrupted by Stiles' next words, the teens eyes wide as he realized something. “Shit, I have to keep the line open in case Isaac wants to call me...and I have to figure out what I'm wearing tonight. Bye Scott, see you later”, Stiles said, hung up and threw his phone on the seat next to him before speeding off as fast as his old jeep would let him. He drove back home where he would probably spend most of the afternoon deciding on an outfit and nervously checking his phone every few minutes.

 


	4. Getting over the Nerves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been so long, my muse likes to take days off :) Hope you like this chapter

Isaac slaved away at the graveyard for the rest of the day, working extra hard so his dad might be more susceptible to his son's wishes of going out tonight. As he was standing under the shower, washing off the dirt of the day's labor, the hot water relieving his aching muscles, he thought about the best way to ask his father about the movie night without getting into trouble. He wondered if there even was a way to get out of a beating bearing in mind that his dad never forgot about any mistakes he made and digging a grave at the wrong place was a pretty bad mistake in Mr. Lahey's book.

He spend as much time as possible on washing his hair, drying himself off and putting on his clothes, feeling nervous about facing his old man and his anger. He just hoped that he wouldn't hit him in the face or anywhere else visible. He usually took great care not to leave any signs of his cruel abuse on his son, but sometimes his anger would be too great to bother about thinking where his fist collided with the boy's body. Isaac wiped over the bathroom mirror with his palm, clearing it of the condensation that had clouded it. He ran his fingers through his damp curls, looking even more unruly as it was still wet, and stared intensely at his own reflection before taking a deep breath.

“You can do this! Maybe he won't even hit you this time.”, Isaac told his mirror-twin and nodded at himself before he turned around to leave the bathroom. He walked down the stairs, the second step from the bottom creaking loudly when the weight of his feet hit it. He used to hate that piece of wood, cursing it whenever he tried to get out of the house without his dad noticing him and the step betrayed him if he forgot about it's tell-tale noise. Mr. Lahey appeared at the doorway arch leading to the living room, leaning against it and crossing his arms in front of his chest.  
“So tell me Isaac, you learned to read and write when you were like six or seven years old, right?”, the man said with a mocking grin on his face and his son didn't like where this was going at all. “Uh...yeah, I did?”, Isaac said, not sounding sure at all because he always got even more nervous of his father's calm voice than his angry one. This was usually the calm before the storm and he'd much rather just have a quick beating than going through his father's little mind games before having his fists rain down on him anyway.   
“Was that a question, son? Are you not sure?”, Isaac's dad asked the teenager, his voice already sounding more menacing as he unfolded his arms and took a step towards him. The boy slowly shook his head an his eyes widened in fear as his father was standing right in front of him now.  
“N..No, I learned to read and write when I was six.”, the young man answered and almost took a step back, but remembered in the last moment that his dad would even get more mad whenever he shied away from him, hating the weakness he saw in his son's eyes.  
“So you should be able to tell B from C, right?”, Mr. Lahey continued and Isaac's hesitant nods seemed to be answer enough for him. “Then why the hell did you dig a grave next to Mr. Beaver's when I specifically told you that I needed one for Mrs. Cleaver?”, he started yelling and next thing Isaac knew, his father's fist collided with his jaw, making him stumble back against the sideboard standing next to the stairs. ”You know it's your own fault I get so mad at you for being so stupid! Now make yourself useful and get me a beer!”

Isaac rubbed his jaw as he watched his dad turn around and walk back into the living room. He was wondering if there still was a chance he could ask for permission to go to Stiles's house. He shuffled through the living room and to the kitchen, making as little sound as possible as his father was sitting in front of the television. He opened the fridge to grab a bottle of beer, but hesitated as he got another idea. He quickly put together a sandwich, doing his best to make it just the way his dad liked it. He put it on a plate, grabbed a beer and walked back to the couch his father was sitting on, holding the plate and bottle in front of him.  
“What's this?”, Mr. Lahey asked with a genuinely surprised expression on his face as he took the plate and bottle, setting the latter one down on the side table next to him.  
Isaac shrugged, trying not to make this into a big deal. “I just thought you'd be hungry after your shift.”, he explained and felt relieved when his dad actually took a big bite from the sandwich and seemed to actually like it. “So you can use your brains after all.”, he said and chuckled before taking another bite and then sipping on his beer as he focused back on the tv. Isaac stayed next to the couch, looking at his dad while he played around with his fingers awkwardly.

“Anything else?”, Mr. Lahey asked when he noticed his son still standing by his side. “Actually dad, I've been wondering...a boy from my class invited me over to his place to watch some movies with him and some other guys tonight.”, Isaac explained and bit his bottom lip nervously. “Somebody invited you?”, his dad scoffed and barely glanced at him. “It's the guys from the lacrosse team.”, the teen added which made his dad look up at him, getting his attention as he had hoped it would. “Fine, go if you want to, might give me some peace and quiet. I don't care as long as you show up to your shift tomorrow morning.”   
Mr. Lahey looked up at his son with a frown and motioned his chin at him. “And remember to keep your mouth shut. What goes on under my roof isn't anybody's business.”  
“Thanks dad.”, Isaac said, which only earned a grumble from his father, but he still felt confused as to what had prompted his dad to remind him not to say anything about what happened at their house. When he walked back towards the stairs, taking his phone out to give Stiles the heads up about tonight, he saw his reflection in the mirror above the sideboard and saw the bruise that had appeared on his jaw. He'd definitely have to think of a good excuse before showing up at Stiles's house tonight.

 


End file.
